


Step into the Light

by silveryink



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fire Lord Zuko, Gaang (Avatar), Gaang (Avatar) as Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, Post-Canon, Toph Beifong and Zuko are Siblings, Zuko (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:42:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24648913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveryink/pseuds/silveryink
Summary: Some days, Zuko can’t tell were his childhood memories stop and the lives of his people begin. It's all the same in the end, striking parallels of each other.The least he can do is help them all heal.
Relationships: Iroh & The Gaang (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang and Zuko
Comments: 24
Kudos: 832





	Step into the Light

**Author's Note:**

> *whispers* It was supposed to be shorter than this...  
> This story closely ties to my others, but only barely so it can be read as a standalone. I was about to extend this with more angst, but decided against it in the end because my word count was getting slightly out of hand.
> 
> About the child abuse TW: it's only mentioned, but there's a section in the second part (out of three) of the story where Iroh and Zuko discuss how Ozai abused him as a kid. It's only mentioned, but if you'd like to skip it, it starts at 'They were small things at first' and ends at 'Do you want to continue or should I?'

After much argument, Zuko finally convinces Katara to let him sit in on exactly one meeting before he attends the coronation.

It’s an essential meeting. The war isn’t over yet; they’ve only stopped Ozai from razing the Earth Kingdom and everything beyond to the ground. The generals need to sign off on the order to stop the armies from proceeding. He might have all week to do this before he’s officially crowned, but he’d rather get this over with as soon as possible. Even though he feels awful, he thinks he can get them to listen now, when the absence of his father on the throne hasn’t entirely sunk in (which Zuko completely understands – he’s also not sure of what it means to not be caught under Ozai’s shadow anymore).

It’s also the only time Zuko is even remotely glad that his father ruled with an iron thumb (or was it fist? Uncle would probably know). They fear his position enough to not question his order, which is all he can hope for at this point. The meeting lasts for barely fifteen minutes, and most of it is dedicated to the language of the edict, to ensure that no warmongering soldiers take advantage of loopholes and continue to pilfer their way through the world. Zuko can worry about removing the stain of fear from his position after the coronation; for now, he focuses on the details of the edict.

He hates the curtain of fire before him, but it gives him enough cover so that they don’t see the slump of his shoulders as exhaustion sweeps through him. Aang is right next to him in the very seat he’d taken at Ozai’s side during his _last_ war meeting, and Zuko knows that the Avatar is perfectly aware of his current condition. He’ll need another healing session with Katara, who will doubtlessly lecture him on how she knew that this was a bad idea.

Zuko knows and recognises a bad idea when he sees one, and, yeah, this is pretty terrible even by his standards.

It’s also one he couldn’t have, nor _would_ have avoided if he’d seen it from a mile away.

The meeting is adjourned, Zuko can barely remain in the formal, rigid position for all the time it takes for the last general to slip through the door and close it behind them. Aang yelps when he sags sideways and darts to his side, catching him before he can fall.

“I’m okay,” he murmurs, past the black spots in his swimming vision.

“It’s not just the wound, is it?” Aang is perceptive. Zuko knows this well, but it still takes him by surprise on occasion.

“No, it’s not.”

The air in the room is stifling, all of a sudden. Zuko shivers, and Aang pulls him down so that he’s lying on the pedestal with his head on the Avatar’s lap.

“We can talk about it later, if you want,” he says, pulling out the headpiece his uncle gave him and runs a hand through his hair. Zuko hums when the top knot slips away, leaving his unevenly chopped hair falling around his face. The line of fire before him rises momentarily, and Zuko jolts upright – an instinctive reaction he regrets not a moment later as an excruciating wave of aftershock overtakes all other sensation. He doesn’t even try to withhold his strangled cry, grateful that Aang is there to hold him down so that he doesn’t hurt himself more when he attempts to arch his back against the agony.

“That’s it, we’re getting Katara,” Aang decides, once Zuko’s breaths have evened out from their pained hitches, but before he can decide whether he’s going to leave Zuko here while he finds her or if he’s going to carry the older boy with him, the healer in question bursts through the doors.

“I thought – told you – don’t exert yourself,” she gasps, racing up the steps and sliding to a stop next to him. She and Aang methodically undo his armour and unlace his tunic. Katara tugs his bandages down and flips open her waterskin, resting her hands over the star-shaped burn mark and letting her powers work their way through his body. He relaxes and sighs when it washes the pain away, relief sweeping through him like a balm.

“We were going to rest here for a bit,” Aang says quietly. “He didn’t feel so good after the meeting, so I thought we could stay till he felt better. But…”

“I moved too fast,” Zuko volunteers, now that he’s capable of speech again. “I jarred the wound, it’s on me.”

Katara returns the water to its pouch and reties his bandages silently. She waits until he’s re-clasped his armour before she smacks the back of his head, not unlike when Sokka’s being stupid about something. He rubs his head and casts an indignant glare at her. She huffs.

“It’s _not_ on you, but I did say _take it easy_. Toph’s pretty upset, she said your heartbeat went crazy for a moment there – no, don’t you dare apologise, you’re _injured_ , for spirits’ sakes, it isn’t your fault-”

And on goes her lecture, till she thinks Zuko’s been chastened enough to not do anything stupid like this again until he’s healed.

“I thought we were doing this just to end the war,” he says, just to be petulant. “That seemed pretty serious.”

“I know this meeting was important, but you have to remember that it’s just been a day since you were struck by lightning. Remember what happened to your uncle when we saw you both in the Earth Kingdom?”

“I try not to.”

Katara raises an eyebrow pointedly, and Zuko relents.

“Help me up?” he asks Aang. “I want to go back to my chambers.”

The Avatar wordlessly supports him as he struggles to his feet, and, when he sways dangerously, Katara slings his free hand over her shoulder. Together, they escort him to the large and overly comfortable bed in his quarters. Well. It’s _their_ bed, for now – they each have their own suites in the wing, but he and his friends are used to sleeping in close proximity to each other. It feels strange to be alone, these days, even though Zuko notoriously preferred solitude during the years he spent on his ship.

Sokka and Suki are chatting with Toph by the window when Aang and Katara stagger in, practically dragging Zuko with them. Their eyes widen when they see his condition, and immediately move to help Zuko with his armour once he’s on the bed. He’s kind of glad he chose to wear his royal armour instead of the regent’s robes, because he doubts he has the energy to move in the heavy fabric in this state. As it is, it’s a miracle his armour is light. He resolves to speak with some of the seamstresses in the palace (the ones not chased off by Azula) about making changes to his wardrobe as Fire Lord.

Finally, he’s only in his tunic and linen trousers, and being pushed into the pile of soft pillows stacked behind him so that he’s somewhat sitting up. It honestly feels more like reclining on a beach chair, but he doesn’t complain. Toph curls into him once he’s settled.

“You kind of freaked me out there, Sparky,” she mutters. “Your heartbeat was just a bit too fast the whole time, but it went off the rails when you and Aang were alone.”

“Sorry,” he says instinctively. “For worrying you.”

“It’s cool.” Thankfully, she doesn’t punch him. “Never do it again.”

“I can’t attend any more meetings until I’m officially crowned,” he says. “This is the extent of my interim position. I’m not _technically_ Fire Lord yet, but with no one else in the position, I’m not Crown Prince either. I can’t sign any more orders, those will have to wait til after the coronation. So I’m basically stuck without any particular duties except… help plan it?”

“Azula’s plans were already put in place,” Suki points out. “I’d assume they went with tradition, so they’ll know what to do now that they have a larger time frame. The only thing you need to think about is the measurements on your robes and possibly the presentation outside.”

The others stare at her, and she flushes. “What? I had a chatty cellmate before they transferred me to the Boiling Rock.”

“You know what this means?” Sokka asks, and lightly jabs a finger into his chest above the bandages. “You are officially our tour guide! A-after you’ve healed, obviously,” he adds hastily, off Katara’s glare.

He shrugs. “Sure.”

“I mean the whole deal – the symbolism behind the posters, sorry, _tapestries_ , the embarrassing stories, all of it.”

“Um. Okay, not a problem.” He lapses into silence, and blinks when a warm hand rests itself on his knee.

“Something happened, back there, that made you jump like that,” Aang says gently. “You haven’t reacted that badly to anything since before you decided to find Yon Rha. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m not sure,” he admits. “But… it might help.”

“Take all the time you need,” Suki assures him, sinking onto the mattress next to Sokka.

So he takes a few deep breaths, and speaks.

His friends look increasingly horrified when his tale progresses from the times he and Azula presented their bending before Azulon, to when they eavesdropped on their father as he tried to convince the then-Fire Lord to name him heir in the loss of Lu Ten, to the two war councils he attended. Sokka looks especially disturbed when Zuko describes, rather bitterly, how everyone seemed to simply agree that sending freshly trained recruits with no experience into a massacre would be a good idea.

“That’s not… right,” Aang says, and Zuko remembers that his friend is roughly the same age as he was when he attended that fateful meeting. He wishes, not for the first time, that he could go back in time and strangle Sozin for leaving them all to inherit a world in war.

“No, it wasn’t. I told them as much, but my father and the generals took it as an insult, rather than the critique I’d intended it to be.”

Aang swallows. “Was that why he challenged you to the Agni Kai?”

Zuko hums. He’s told his friends about how he got the scar, of course. Toph even asked permission to touch it, and had been rather subdued after she’d felt the size of the burn. He’d felt terribly guilty about it, and received a punch in the shoulder – not her more affectionate ones – for apologising to her. He hadn’t gone into the details of why he’d attended the duel, at the time. He hadn’t wanted to think about it before going to fight them.

“Yeah. It was terrible, all around.”

Aang looks like he’s about to cry, and Zuko scrambles upwards to try and comfort him, only to be stopped by Aang lunging across the bed and crushing him in a hug. Through some miracle, he avoids his still-sensitive burn. Zuko is mostly used to physical comfort after two months with Team Avatar (as Sokka calls them), so he automatically rubs circles into Aang’s back.

“It happened years ago, buddy,” he reminds him. “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not,” Aang mumbles, and, fine, he isn’t exactly wrong.

“But I will be.” He pulls Aang away from himself and holds him an arm’s distance away, looking directly into his eyes. “And when I am, I’m going to change the way things are. You’ll be right there to watch me, if that’s what you want.”

“I want to help,” Aang says, and Zuko grins.

“There’s the Avatar I know.” He squeezes Aang’s shoulder gently. “Although, I _do_ have one thing in mind that I’d like to prioritise over all the policy reforms.”

A pause, then: “Of _course_ we’ll help you tear down the throne room! You don’t even have to ask!”

“ _Toph!_ ”

* * *

“Iroh,” Sokka leans in across the length of the bed, which seems particularly hard to do from the way he’s already sprawled across three of his friends, “Your nephew’s been holding out on us.”

Iroh raises a brow and sips his tea calmly. Said nephew is stuck under Toph and Aang, face slowly turning as red as his robes, but he doesn’t say a word. “How so?”

“I knew he was good with his dao blades, but he’s a crazy powerful firebender! How in Tui’s name did you guys _not_ capture us or Aang?”

“To be fair,” Zuko pipes up, “I _did_ capture Aang. Many times. Within the first five minutes of meeting you.”

“Yeah, but you lost him,” Sokka brushes off. “I’m just surprised you didn’t fight us off better.”

Iroh shrugs. What is he supposed to say to something like that? He meets Zuko’s eye, and after a moment of hesitation, his nephew nods resolutely.

“My brother was never the kindest father to Zuko,” he starts slowly. “I wasn’t around a lot for much of his childhood, but when I returned from my Ba Sing Se siege, I swore not to turn a blind eye when I realised just how badly he treated him. I wasn’t able to do much, unfortunately, because Ozai was also Fire Lord.”

“If Uncle had spoken against him, he would have ended up in prison, or worse,” Zuko interrupts, seeing his friends’ sceptical looks. “Don’t look at him like that – you all know what Ozai’s done, what he was capable of. He didn’t hold back against his thirteen-year-old son, why would he have with his older brother?”

They look away, chastened.

“They were small things, at first,” Zuko adds, and Iroh is surprised that he’s volunteering this information at all. “When I tripped during one of my katas, or if my bending wasn’t up to standard, he’d make some off-handed remark about failure. He was _obsessed_ with the idea that anything less than perfection was failure. It’s what got to Azula, in the end.”

He clears his throat. “Then he started dropping hints that Mother had disappeared because of me, that she couldn’t _handle a weakling like me_ and that she’d rather stay away than deal with my incompetence for a minute longer than she had to. It didn’t help that Azula thought the same thing, but then Mother always spared more attention towards me – she said it was because I was more hopeless than she was.

“I know that they were wrong,” Zuko says hastily when his friends turn wide-eyed, concerned stares to him. “Really. She left because she helped Ozai kill Azulon. He was going to-” he broke off midway, looking absolutely horrified. “It’s not important,” he says hastily. “Uncle – _please-_ ”

Iroh makes it a point to ask what exactly he meant to say later. He never really heard about the circumstances under which Ozai came to be declared Fire Lord before, and it’s clear from Zuko’s reaction that the story isn’t good, to say the least.

“I only understood why my nephew had changed when the physical abuse started.” His voice hardened with anger at the memories. “Bruises, small scratches or welts, nothing too noticeable – but at that point I had warred for two years straight. I knew what injuries looked like. I wish I’d spoken up earlier, it might have spared-”

“ _Uncle_.”

“Right,” Iroh clears his throat. “I confronted Ozai once, about it. Said that Zuko looked downright terrified when I’d announced that I would be observing his bending training. He frowned and made some excuse, but made it clear that it was in my best interests to not bring it up again.”

The kids look sickened, and Zuko himself isn’t doing much better. Iroh leaves his tea on the table and sits next to him on the bed, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“I haven’t regretted anything more than standing by while Ozai mistreated you so badly,” he says softly. “I hope you can forgive me.”

Zuko pushes his friends off him, looking aghast. “You – what – of _course_ I’ve forgiven you! There’s nothing _to_ forgive, you couldn’t have done a thing to stop Ozai and you know it.”

“I could have helped-”

Iroh is cut off by the full force of Zuko throwing himself into his arms, wrapping him in a fierce hug. The teenager is shaking, but not crying.

“Uncle,” he whispers, “you _did_ help. I always came to you after Azula taunted me, or when I was too upset to continue my bending. You decided to teach me instead of my regular instructors, and you saw how much progress I made. Please, don’t-” his voice chokes up and he buries his face in Iroh’s shoulder.

Tears prick at the corners of his eyes. “ _Nephew_.”

After a moment or so, Zuko pulls away with a sniff. “Do you want to continue, or should I?”

Iroh doesn’t want to subject his nephew to having to talk about his own feelings. Zuko’s gotten better at them, but he’ll let him set his own pace. There’s enough time to do that now.

“I’ll do it,” he says, and Zuko practically sags in relief. He _does_ curl into Iroh’s side, though, which is unexpected but not unwelcome. Iroh doubts his nephew would have entertained the thought of such a display of affection before joining the Avatar, but simply throws an arm across his shoulders as Sokka and Toph clamber onto Zuko immediately.

“He’s warm,” Toph says by way of explanation.

“Aang’s warm too,” Zuko grumbles.

“Aang’s cuddling with Katara,” Suki points out, slipping in between Zuko and Sokka. “I don’t think I want to see them being all _oogie_ right now.”

Aang gasps theatrically, reclining further into an exasperated Katara’s side.

“Whatever,” Zuko mutters, but the corners of his lips twich in amusement.

Iroh takes that as his invitation to resume his account. “You all know what happened next – Ozai went too far, and burned Zuko at the Agni Kai before banishing him to look for the Avatar, who, at that point, had been missing for a hundred years. During that time, his confidence in his firebending… fell, drastically. It partly had to do with Ozai burning him, but all those small comments had worn down on him at last.”

“A thousand paper cuts,” Sokka mutters, and Iroh nods.

“Exactly. Zuko never really realised his full strength when we were sailing. I worked hard to reinforce his basic forms, because I knew he thought he wouldn’t be ready for the advanced sets that first year. After that, well, I snuck in some of the advanced moves into the basic katas and told him to wait more.”

“You did _what_?” Zuko squawks.

“It was mainly to keep him from wearing himself to the ground while hunting for the Avatar,” Iroh continues as though Zuko didn’t just speak up, “but my nephew was afraid of fire, whether or not he chose to believe it. I kept the charade up until a few months before we headed for the South Pole.

“His rage fuelled his fire, so I held back from teaching him the hardest forms – hardest according to _Ozai_ , anyway. The Breath of Fire is the most difficult technique to master, and while it certainly took long enough for Zuko to learn, he’d be good enough to execute it perfectly now.”

“Was that the move you used at the Boiling Rock?” Sokka asks excitedly.

Iroh blinks. “The _what._ ”

Zuko looks sheepish, and rubs the back of his reddening neck. “I, uh, helped Sokka break Suki and his dad from the Boiling Rock and got myself thrown into a cooler for instigating-”

“A cooler?”

“Oh, right, it’s this metal container where they send firebenders to be disciplined. The cold keeps them from bending, completely contains their ability. I saw a few of them, they looked… bad. It was bad.” Zuko bites his lip. “That’s another policy to change, torture isn’t a good way to rehabilitate – anyway. It wasn’t so bad for me, I could still bend inside. It was like the time I swam in the seal-turtle tunnels under the Northern Water Tribe canals.”

Iroh thinks Zuko’s going to give him a heart attack one of these days.

* * *

They’re riding through the city square when Toph stops them with a clap and an exclamation. “Hey, Katara, do you remember that amazing scam we pulled off here?”

Zuko pulls back on the reins of the komodo-rhino and blinks. “You did _what_?”

The earthbender shrugs. “We needed money. We gambled and pulled scams. It was great.”

“Not really,” Katara objects from her steed. “We got ourselves trapped in a wooden cell that you couldn’t break out of, and chased out of the city by Combustion Man.”

Zuko reddens at the mention of the assassin he’d hired in an act of desperation to ensure his credibility with Ozai. “Wait. There’s a story behind it, isn’t-”

There’s a whistling sound in the air, and Zuko yanks on the reins right before something crashes heavily onto the ground before him. Toph grabs his sides roughly to keep from toppling over when the komodo-rhino bucks, but Zuko’s frozen at the sight of the offending obstacle. He vaguely hears Sokka and Suki over the ringing in his ears, checking to see if they’re all okay (they are, Zuko and Toph were ahead of the rest), and isn’t entirely sure if he is.

At his feet lies a chipped and scratched statue of his father.

There’s yelling up front, and Toph urges him to head towards it. He snaps the reins and falls into his court face easily. It’s easier to be detached and professional than have to deal with how he feels right now. (He wants to burn the statue, but knows it would be stupid to try. The thing’s made out of sturdy metal, for spirits’ sakes.)

“What’s going on here?”

His question is met by relative silence. There’s some murmuring as the crowd realises who he is, but no one speaks up yet. He’s willing to wait.

“Your Majesty,” a lady hesitantly begins, and bows. “We thought it would be symbolic, to tear down the statue of Ozai.”

Zuko blinks.

“We understand that such an act is a punishable offence, but-”

“I’m not mad about the statue,” he blurts. “I wasn’t even aware that there _was_ one here.” He can’t say he’s too surprised, though.

“You’re not?” The poor lady sounds bewildered, so Zuko lightly hops down after signalling his intent to Toph.

“I’m really not. As your ruling monarch, though, I suppose it is my duty to tell you all that there is a far safer method of removing the statue than tearing it down where people could get injured.”

“Oh, I – um-”

“Actually, Toph, since you’re here, would you do me the favour of bending the metal into some form that can be used for something else later? The material’s still intact, it would be such a waste to simply toss it away.”

“On it,” she says, striding over to the statue and twisting the metal closer to her till it’s crumpling in on itself.

The crowd watches in fascination as she compresses it into a large lump to be carted away later, and satisfaction swoops through Zuko as he watches the oversized likeness of his father distort and fold into something indistinct, much like the fate of the living counterpart of the statue. He smiles, but feels it twist into something other than his usual (and apparently adorable???) expressions.

“You’re really not offended that we tore down a monument to your father?” one of the people in the crowd asks. When Zuko catches their eye, he sees someone roughly of his own age.

“Not at all.” On an impulse decision, he decides to add, “He did much to make my life miserable, including banishing me and sending me away on a fool’s errand at the ripe old age of thirteen. So, no, if anything I’m grateful that I won’t have to walk past a giant statue in his honour every time I pass through this square.”

The rest of the crowd seems to be caught between horrified and confused. Zuko remembers that only those in higher positions in the military (and more favoured nobles) really knew what had happened in the Agni Kai he fough all those years ago. Abruptly, he switches the topic.

“Are there any more of these statues around the Fire Nation?” he asks one of his guards, who’ve finally managed to pick their way past the rubble.

“A few, Fire Lord,” Ming says.

“I think we know my next official edict,” he mutters, and she snorts. “We should – Toph, what are you doing?”

“Making a statue of you in miniature,” she says innocently, handing over the palm-sized figure she sculpted with her bending.

Zuko looks down at it and is thoroughly amused by the features. “My scar isn’t that big,” he says, trying so hard not to laugh, “and my hair looks like when Sokka tried to draw us all in Ba Sing Se – it’s not that spiky!”

“I’m working without reference here, if you don’t recall,” she snipes, flapping a hand before her eyes. “I never said my figure was perfect, unlike Snoozles over there.”

“Okay, you know wha-”

“Guys,” Katara interrupts, and Zuko remembers that they’re not alone in the palace. The crowd is watching them avidly, some of the elder members sporting strange looks. After a moment, Zuko places them all.

It’s the same look he wears when he remembers just how _young_ his friends are. It shouldn’t surprise him anymore, but he, Sokka and Suki have spent evenings behind closed doors simply mulling over the fact that a bunch of twelve, fourteen, and sixteen year olds had been the driving forces behind stopping an entire war and shaping the world that came after. Zuko tries to make it as easy as he can for Aang, who’s only _fourteen_ now, to Zuko’s almost-nineteen.

If _he_ feels like he’s aged thirty years now, what about these people who lived most of their lives under the shadows of Azulon and Ozai’s cruelty?

Some days, he can’t tell where his musings of his childhood stop being that, and when they turn into thoughts about his nation.

He turns away, swiping a hand against his eyes. There’s a hand on his shoulder, and he turns his head to see Aang earnestly looking up at him.

“We can cut the visit short,” he offers, but Zuko shakes his head.

“No, it’s okay.” He rattles off instructions on how to handle the repairs to the street and strides back to his komodo-rhino.

As Toph uses his hands as a footstool to hoist herself onto their steed, he glances back at the lump of metal on the pedestal. The crowd has already started to disperse, and the whispers carry themselves over the air indistinctly. They won’t be punished for this act, of course – if he weren’t Fire Lord he’d personally go door-to-door and thank each person responsible.

He pulls himself onto the saddle and smiles, tugging the reins gently to direct the skittish animal away from the damaged cobblestones.

It’s things like this, he thinks, that make it worthwhile to stick around and watch as the world changes around him.

**Author's Note:**

> Quick mention, I thought of the 'destroying Ozai's statue' scene before the statues of colonisers were actually torn up, but amended it to fit real life (slightly) when I found out about it. There was originally also going to be a scene where Zuko basically changes the entire throne room's layout, but I had no idea where it would go so here came the giant statue.
> 
> I have a headcanon re: Zuko's firebending that he was only learning 'basic forms' on the ship because his confidence in his skills shot down awfully after duelling his father. In the show, he still moves to cover his face first when fire is directed at him (most noticeably in The Firebending Masters) so it's safe to assume that for a while after he was banished, he found it difficult to bend or be around other benders.
> 
> Hence, Iroh finds a solution to return to the basics and sneaks in advanced techniques all the while, before doing so openly once Zuko finds the Avatar. It keeps Zuko aware of simple techniques and simultaneously strengthens him (both skills-wise and mentally).
> 
> I love how they depicted his prowess in the Agni Kai - the second scene of this story has an extended version where I basically gush about it through the others. It got too rambly, so unfortunately I had to cut it from the final draft. I don't mind sharing it on my Tumblr, if anyone would like to see the extended scenes.
> 
> EDIT: As promised, the extended and deleted [scenes](https://silveryinkystar.tumblr.com/post/620623993735692288/a-few-of-you-guys-asked-to-see-the-extended-scenes).
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed!


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